


The Offworlder

by pikablob



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Outer Space, Post-Canon, There was a 2nd Gem War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23698558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikablob/pseuds/pikablob
Summary: On a backwater planet, years after the end of the Second Gem War, a familiar stranger wanders in to Blue Pearl's store.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	The Offworlder

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended Song: [Jake Lonergan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJ5_DvtbPIQ)

It had been a slow morning. Guests in Pearl’s shop were infrequent on a good day, out here on the galactic fringe, and today it seemed the entire outpost was hiding away inside their own prefabs. She could hardly blame them; everyone was on edge. A Federation dreadnought had pulled in overnight, and now hung over the outpost like a bad omen.

She had first noticed it that morning when her wife left for work. It was an ugly thing, a dagger of jet black armour stamped with crimson emblems and studded with gun batteries and emplacements of every size. It made everyone uneasy: why would a warship of that size be so far outside of Federation space? Why would it come to this, of all planets?

There was a hiss of pneumatics as the shop doors opened, and Pearl was pulled from her thoughts. She looked up to see an offworlder step in, taking care to brush his shoes on the mat. To her surprise, he was a human. He wasn’t the first she had seen, but their species had only gained space travel a handful of cycles ago, and outside of the Federation there were few.

He looked to be an adult but not elderly; Pearl didn’t know enough about the species to guess his age beyond that. Dark curly hair covered his head, pulled back into a large ponytail, and stubble dusted his chin. There was something oddly familiar about him, she thought.

The most unusual thing about him was his dress. In every inch he was almost a Federation officer: his coat was military-style down to the emblem on the shoulder, and he wore the right trousers and boots, but instead of rebel black his coat was a dusty grey, his trousers sandy brown, and beneath he wore a plain pink top.

The emblem on his sleeve was a pale yellow instead of crimson. As he approached she could see it was wrong as well; the star was there, but the wedge beneath it was absent. On his other sleeve, where a rank mark should have been, were four circles; one red, one blue, one purple, and one white.

He looked slowly around the various pieces of etched glass art she had up, lingering on a few. Finally he settled on one, carefully unhooking it from the wall and carrying it over to the counter. It was an older one of hers: a fleet of elegant Gem starships etched in white into a grey glass pane. He set it down on the counter.

“This one, please,” he asked. He was smiling genuinely, but there was a weariness in his expression. She smiled back.

“Of course.” She gently wrapped the piece in padding, before slipping it into a bag. He paid quickly, taking the bag carefully when she handed it back.

“It’s a gift for my partner,” he explained softly, eyes lighting up, “She’s going to love this.” He didn't immediately turn to leave, instead hovering at the edge of the counter. She could tell just from the look in his eye there was something more he wanted to say.

“Ah,” she replied, “Is there anything else I can help you with?” His smile dropped and he looked down, shuffling uncomfortably.

“Yeah, actually,” he said quietly, “I- there’s someone I need to find. I heard you might be able to help me find her.” He sounded almost guilty. She narrowed her eyes, suspicious; she had a decent idea who the man was talking about.

“So you’re a bounty hunter?” Pearl asked bluntly. He shook his head.

“No, it’s not like that,” he said quickly. “She’s family, estranged family; I want to change that. I want to reconnect, but she's hiding away in exile and I don't know how to get to her.”

“You don’t mean-”

“Blue,” he confirmed, sighing heavily. Pearl paused, looking him up and down. The only family Blue Diamond ever had were her fellow rulers, and Pearl was certain none of the others had made it out of the war. Unless…

That was why the man seemed familiar, she realised with a start. This wasn’t just some random offworlder; this was Pink Steven, the figurehead of the rebellion. In his name renegade armies had toppled the Diamond Authority and brought the Federation to power. If it hadn’t been for him she wouldn’t even have a life out here. But it had come at a price; revolution wasn’t pretty.

He’d been a child then, and about as far from a fighter as could be imagined. She had only seen him once before, during the trial that had started all the fighting. But she had heard the stories since, of how desperately he’d wanted to help both friend and foe, of how the bloodshed of the war had affected him, and of how he’d retreated from public view and disappeared even as the rebel troops marched on and White met her end. And now here he was, at least a quarter of his lifespan later, a mere passer-through in a backwater colony.

She took a deep breath. He looked at her expectantly, trying to gauge her reaction. Finally, she forced the faintest ghost of a smile.

“Epsilon Quadrant,” she began, “Three-five-zero-four by two-nine-eight-six.” She snatched up a pen, scribbling the coordinates on the receipt for his purchase. “You’ll find her there.”

“Thank you,” he smiled again, genuinely, and placed the receipt into his bag. He turned to leave, glancing over his shoulder as he stepped outside.

“Good luck,” she offered, right before the door hissed shut again and he was gone from view.

When she heard the distant rumble of capital ship engines, she didn’t need to look outside to know the dreadnought had departed with its war-hero passenger aboard, bound for Epsilon Quadrant. And when her wife returned that evening, and asked her how her day had been, Pearl had a new piece of art to show: a portrait of a human with curly hair in a discoloured Federation jacket, a bright smile on his weary face.


End file.
